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Poetry

Rose

Rose

 

There is an atom bomb

inside

the rose today.

Red it is,

explosively,

scent flying up and spearing

me with shreds of volatility.

Just a flower!

It is a flower of power.

Incredible that such

brutality of perfection,

hostile sexuality,

could have ever been called beauty,

could ever have been tamed into word.

Inside the petal skin,

shrapnel,

underneath the smile a terrible kiss,

jerking out to paint me with

dark blood –

barbs deftly sinking –

daggers in the very standing!

Madness in the very looking!

Just a flower!

How did you fall unconsidered

into my mind?

I know that it was not

gravity.

Fold on fold of red and black,

wrapped over and over,

red and black,

red and black.

Underneath some hidden truth.

And now only roses –

roses everywhere,

a million, a million and one…

From the

hardest earth to the highest heaven –

an infinity of the rose.

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